


Symphonica

by Aicosu



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, General Hux - Freeform, Hux - Freeform, M/M, Rey - Freeform, SluttyPartyBoy Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aicosu/pseuds/Aicosu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux teaches Rey the waltz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symphonica

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alania/gifts).



> This is for my Reylux fam, Alania, who loves it when Rey and Hux dance together.

Everything was glitter.

Slick sweet sweat and sparkling stars in skin.

Rey reached into the pool of the sky, swirling artificial fog and blasts, pockets, bombs, of glitter.

The bass thudded so hard it shook the whole of her body. A drop in the beat and then an explosion of banging. People jumping up in down in tandem around her. Sweaty flesh, cool on her warm skin, pressed into her as she jostled in the crowd, hands still stretched to the night air above everyone.

She yelled, loud and full of joy, but didn’t hear anything when the squeal of music crescendoed.

“REY!!!” Poe screamed at her. His voice crackled, a broken synthesizer struggling to heighten in the tempo of the concert. “THIS WAY!”

She could see his neon hat, flashing beacons every time he turned. He was a lamplight for the firefly clouds of confetti. A forest of glow sticks parted her way to him, bright oranges and blue making her skin look luminescent, alien. Like a funhouse of retro arcades, lighting up the night and humming in a digital chorus.

Poe wanted to get to the front of the stage, where the DJs were backlit like stained glass, shining down on the masses. Where the music was the loudest, most divine. She could seem him weave there through the sea.

But it was harder for Rey to do. Where Poe was a beacon she was a canvas that belonged to everyone else. A walking story of the people around her. Other people’s body paint splashed her skin, a stranger’s collection of cheap necklaces. Even her cropped shirt was soaked with another girl’s drink. She was absorbing, collecting. Lost and found.

So Poe was gone and Rey was stumbling, adding to herself with fingerprints of others.

When she saw him.

He was sinking in the sea of it all, rising in the offbeat like the offset wave on a beach, anchored by some big blonde guy who molded against him. Humped him. Tempered him like metal needing to be held into place. His back was arched, pale skin of his chest sparkling with glitter like fresh winks of water in snow. A shadow cast in the sunset colors of his hair. Gradient pink flushing over his skin in the heat of the crowd.

The blonde was sucking on his neck.

He lolled in front of her, held up only by the man who gripped him, blocking her path like some sort of wicked Proserpina stretched against her Pluto. Bernini’s ideal turned illicit fantasy.

The music dropped, the red spotlights flashed gold, and his eyes found her. Kept her.

Pink lips split at the sight of her, and his arms rose slower than the thumping base around them, slower than everyone jumping. He rose them like a ballerina queued to 4th position and Rey felt time stop around them as he moved. She couldn’t hear the music anymore.

The blonde was still grinding down on him to the beat, grasping at his hips and thighs. But he simply pressed his fingers against the boy's suckling lips and pushed away. A deer refusing a hunter, as if it were an easy thing.

She was too enthralled with the paleness of his arms to argue when came to rest about her shoulders, pawning his body off to her like she had been what he was waiting for.

“I’m looking for my friend!” She screamed above the noise.

“I am your friend.” He whispered.

Rey found she didn’t want to argue that. She tried to look for the blonde Greek-like male that had been riding on him, but they were gone.

His long arms twisted about her bare stomach, cool sweat against her hot dancing, and she forgot about Poe Dameron. He was a languid thing, bare and lazy, pulling himself about her. A cat demanding attention. She let him. Let herself be painted over, this time with stark white and fire. Rey was eager to be something to someone, even it was only for this song.

She found his eyes through the spotlight, and it was like the fake chemical fog had gotten caught there. Smoke swirled in his iris. Dilated. High.

Their bodies lifted in tandem with everyone else’s, caught in a current of drums they couldn’t get rid of. His red hair was slicked back by product or sweat. Only three tiny threads had managed to unravel, tickling his forehead, dripping red pigment into the thinness of his skin and making freckles.

“Will you be my friend?” He asked, his words punctuated by the synthetic beat, blaring, a remixed, cut, hashed car alarm.

Rey could see angry leech-large hickies scattered down his neck.

“Okay.”

She wasn’t sure if he heard her, but he slid his arms down over her shoulders all the same. She could feel his flesh beneath his shirt, lanky, thin, taut. Her arms fit all the way around him. Rey could probably hold him there and never let go. He wouldn’t get away.

He dipped low to suck on her earlobe. Her fingers scratched into his muscles.

“Ah!” He said, back arching, before he shook with laughter. The sound drowned away into the sea of the crowd, but Rey could feel his mirth in every inch of his body as he vibrated against her. His weight dropped until she was the only thing holding him up from the floor. The only thing holding him up from losing it. “Yes-- Fuck! Like that. Yes.” He said to the air, head lolling.

And then he was back, red swallowed her vision before his smoking eyes did, his nose slid against hers, fingers grabbed her neck, lips caught her own, kissing her. He was kissing her.

It was cold! His tongue split her lips open and edged her teeth before pulling away. He tasted like peaches.

“I don’t know you!” She said. Suddenly. As if it still mattered.

“I’m your best friend, Hux.” Hux said, smiling as if she had simply forgotten.

Rey nodded dumbly. Yes, he was her best friend. Best friend in the whole world. They kissed again and she pulled at the weak white shirt that covered him. Sought to pull him apart and absorb him like he was a plume of the fog from the smoke machine. He seemed to seek the same, plastering himself on her like vapor across a featureless window.

“Dance with me.” He begged between kisses. “Dance with me, right here. No one knows how to dance.”

Rey was lost, blinking up at the changing colors of the sky and the billowing branches of thrown up hands. Fingers flickered like leaves. “We are dancing!”

They were buoyant in a wave of techno sound and rolling bodies. They wavered, knees bending, rotating off each other to the thumping bass.

But Hux tsked in her ear. “No, real dancing. This is a waltz. _Der richtige weg, meine liebe_.”

That was another language. Rey pulled back to ask, but got kissed instead, and forgot what he was saying so she could focus on the sweet tang taste of peaches too ripe to bring home but too sweet to leave behind.

His hands skated down from her neck to her body, sliding one into the palm of her own and the other on her ribs. He splayed his fingers and a nail nicked the bottom curve of her breast.

“Can’t you hear the strings?” He asked. And Rey was too second-hand-high to try to listen to whatever instrument the pre-digitalized melody had once been before the DJ had created a cold copy to spit back out at them.. “A violin--” Hux answered for her. “1,2,3--1,2,3--”

Hux’s leg slid between hers and his knee drew up to grind against her soft shorts. Her knees bent, her stomach pinched, her head threw back and-- “Oh!”, they were moving.

Dancing.

She wasn’t sure how they could swing through a crowd that wouldn’t part, but they were. The lights spun out of control, bleeding blues and reds and greens until its was just a haze. A cloud. Wet paint on soggy paper. Hux was the only real thing, he was stark white, crisp at the edges and rendered in immaculate detail. He kissed her again and Rey thought like she could see exactly what the kiss felt like. “You’re soo good. Perfect, perfect--” He cooed.

Rey whined. His knee rose again to grind against her, answer her calling. And she felt it, the warm pleasure-pain buzz of need, the truth of his thick flesh rubbing against her clit through his pants.

She couldn’t feel her feet, wasn’t sure if she was using them as he expertly lead them about the crowd. Maybe he carried her. She couldn’t be sure.

All she knew was that he was beautiful. Pale and pink, purple at the edges where he had been bruised. And red where she was making him excited. His chest and cheeks were flushed and they glittered in the flashing spotlights with sweat and confetti.

He bit at her ear she pulled his hair, he hissed, they changed position, she ground against his hips, he sucked on her neck. 1,2,3--1,2,3--

Rey could hear them, then. The strings. As the heavy bass broke every edge of her skin, she felt violins lace her back together. The bleeping synth and scratched record sounds were just bystanders, clapping along to the perfect rhythm that Hux conducted in her ear, laughing and praising. Like a best friend.

_“Ich werde mit Ihnen tanzen für immer.”_

This is what she wanted.

She drank as much as he would let her. She was that wasted blonde-guy he had earlier, desperate for any piece Hux was willing to give her before he slipped away to someone else. This all-giving, all-elusive boy that tasted like fruit. Maybe some of him would rub off onto her. Leave her with some sort of identity. Maybe she’d understand a little better what it was to have some sort of life, some sort of meaning. One that he seemed to have enough of in his willingness to give it away so freely.

“REY!”

They twisted around again, his hand fully grasping her breast now as she she tried to imprint her teeth on his shoulder. Claim him. Keep him. As others had tried. They were beginning to rock to a more base, more primal rhythm than the twisted classical they had been hearing.

“REY!”

She was pulled, extracted, taken, kidnapped, wholly abducted, as someone pulled her from Hux’s loving embrace. She immediately yelled in anger, kicked and screamed at the crowd that swallowed Hux up until she could barely see the red of his apple hair through the jumping, sweat ridden traitors around her.

“Rey, come on, I’ve been looking for you girl!”

Rey reared on this villain with rage, only to find Poe Dameron. Disappointment followed soon after. She tried desperately, wriggling in Poe’s grip, to find the wicked boy who’d only just poured himself into her. But there was no incriminating trail of his kisses, no sweet soft smell of his skin, no invisible footprints that trailed back to him in the wooded landscape of bodies and people. Snow falling confetti blocked her view, piling up to obscure him into a winter she would not be able to fare through.

There was no violins anymore either.

Nothing but drums and bass, thumping through her glitter-kissed skin.

* * *

The hand-sanitizer smell of the airport was giving her a headache.

There was a song imprinted somewhere in the back of her head, a cacophony of ambient noise that seemed to translate the medicinal smell into its rhythm. Pinching her nose seemed to balance the effect, if only for a brief, perfect moment.

“You should drink some water.”

Rey looked up at Poe, blinking at the angelic halo silhouetting his neon hat from the beams of light coming from the windows of their terminal. A modern Roman martyr, looking at her with pity from his tired hungover eyes, a wreath of concert lanyards and party beads blinking like stars about his hat and neck.

“Do you have any?”

“Nope.”

And the halo was gone, light obscured as a plane drove by on the tarmac, filling her ears with an unforgiving hum, hailed by the melody in her brain. “Ughhh” she added to it, a low tone of acceptance as she cringed her eyes closed and left Poe at the gate.

Walking after dancing for a whole weekend felt wrong and her limbs seemed to lengthen, skin cold and prickled by the pumping oxygen from the industrial vents of the airport. The tiles looked like paper, never ending white stretched thin. Tearable, like her whole body would go under if she walked just a little too hard.

There was too much noise. Too much white. Rey wanted desperately for sleep. And water.

The newspaper kiosk was like an island, land-ho in the rushing currents of people and suitcases. Dejavu hit Rey like a truck, visions of the night before strobing through her memory. Hands raised with flashing cell phones in a dark haze to a beat she could still hear.

Fire licked hair--

Red hair.

She stopped at the kiosk, staring as red hair bent low in front of the stand. A pale hand, carved, stone, pink at the edges, slid a magazine across the register like one might a chess piece. It was slow, deliberate, lazy.

“ _Ich bin auf dem Weg. Hört auf zu streiten_.” A voice clipped. Smooth and cold. Savory thick cream on peaches. Rey went hungry.

He was just as she’d seen him, but not at all. Lanky, easy, loose, languid -- all that was gone. He was constrained, a perfect secret wrapped up in a silken button up layered over a turtleneck that denied all that she knew to be hers. Milk and sugar. Strawberry sweat and blueberry bruises. His back was straight. Hair slicked with product. Delicate sunglasses framing a narrow nose that pointed to pert, wicked lips.

“ _Ich verschwende nicht meine zeit s_ \--” He stopped, right in front of her. He’d paid, swiped a credit card and turned to stop in front of her. A great big lie. The phone fell from his ear.

Rey spotted glitter speckling his temples and licked her lips.

“I’m looking for my friend.”

Hux rolled his magazine. Slid his glasses off.

The smoke machine was still caught in his eyes.

“I am your friend.”

And Rey heard violins through her headache. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Symphonica](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZgxPKDUk8yk) by Nicky Romero (Original Mix) 
> 
> Bernini's [The Rape of Proserpina](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rape_of_Proserpina)


End file.
